


Hunting

by TheFlayedMan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlayedMan/pseuds/TheFlayedMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay Bolton prepares for his hunting trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prepare

Ramsay grabbed his bow and arrow and stormed out the Dreadfort castle's doors. He walked at a fast pace towards the kennels, where Ben Bones looked over his bitches. He stomped through the slick mud, almost falling multiple times. This just pissed him off even more. Once he finally reached the kennels, he called for Ben Bones. but there was no answer. He walked between the kennels angrily, until he reached Ben Bones leaned back in a chair, eyes closed, and sleeping. Ramsay kicked the chair out from under him, sending Ben flying onto his back, hitting his head against the hard ground beneath them. As he fell, the feral dogs started snarling at the old man. Ramsay looked over to see one trying to bite it's way through the kennel. "Silence!" He shouted, and then turned his attention back to Ben. "Just what the fuck do you think you are doing?!" Ramsay yelled at the kennel master. A gleam of rage flickered in his eyes as he glared at the old man. "Stand, bastard." Ramsay walked outside the sheltered area where his hunting hounds were kept. He turned around quickly and stared at the old man with a smile. "Go get the wench from the dungeons." He commanded with a wide grin plastered onto his face. "It's time to go hunting!" He turned away from the bastard boy and began walking towards his Reek. As soon as the scrawny old man caught sight of him, he hunched over, and shook with fear. "M-M'lord..." He said in a soft spoken voice. Ramsay smirked at his childhood "friend's" fear towards him. "Yes, my sweet Reek?" He asked him. "D-do you need m-me on yo-your hunting trip?" Reek stuttered. Ramsay always took Reek on his hunting trips, so the fact that he didn't already know the answer aggravated him. "You don't know? Reek.. This is our bonding time? Yes? You should know this by now. What should I do to you since you didn't already know? Should I flay a piece of your rotten flesh, then feed it to one of my hounds? Or perhaps take another finger or toe?" Ramsay said in a menacing tone. Before the old man could answer, he walked back towards the kennels to see if Ben Bones had returned with the wench. He yelled as he walked away, "Grab my steed, Reek! Make sure Blood is ready to ride by dawn!" Ramsay approached the kennels to find Ben standing over the abused Wench. Ramsay had taken her from a tavern on the outskirts of Winterfell, telling her that she'd have a better life as a servant of the Dreadfort. "She should have known better", he thought to himself as he smirked down at bruised body. The girl was nothing but skin and bones due to Ramsay starving her. She was often found walking the Dreadfort halls, begging for scraps. Ramsay grabbed her by the hair and lifted her to her legs. If she wasn't gagged, she would have screamed out in pain, instead there was a muffled cry that escaped her lips. The boy stared at the tavern wench with his eyes wide. "You have one night." The bastard said as he retrieved a blade from his breeches, and began slicing at the ropes that held her hands and feet together. "One night to get as far as you can. At dawn tomorrow, I'm coming for you." He cut the cloth that was wrapped around her head, removing the gag. As the blade cut through the cloth, it sliced her cheek. Blood dripped as tears fell down her cheeks. Ramsay backed away, then leaned his torso forward. "Run." He said calmly. He watched the girl run into the Dreadfort forest with a smile, knowing full well that she wouldn't make it out of those woods alive.


	2. Our Blades Are Sharp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay Bolton tests his blade on a wench.

Ramsay sat in his chair next to the fire’s hearth as he waited for the sun to break over the horizon. He sat completely still, staring at the fire. The flames danced in his pale, cold eyes. The boy grabbed his blade from the wooden stand that stood by his chair’s side. He began sharpening the blade slowly, watching the fire’s reflection on the blade of his most favorite flaying knife. After he finished sharpening the blade, he sat with a smile on his face. “Now just to make sure it’s sharp enough.”, he thought to himself. He stood and walked over to his chamber door and yelled, “Wench!” He didn’t care which one came, but he knew at least one would come flying up the stairs of the castle, in fear of what their master might want. The others who don’t show, it’d just give him an excuse to punish them and Ramsay was perfectly okay with that. He walked back to his seat and sat down. After only a few minutes, a girl finally showed. He glared at her as she walked through the door. The wench that walked into his chambers was the youngest one he owned, a girl no more than the age of 14. The young lady bowed in front of her lord and waited for his command. 

“Girl, What’s your name?” He said in a calm, quiet voice. 

“My name is Sara, M’lord.” Her voice shook with fear as she spoke. She couldn’t even bare to look into his eyes.

“Wench!” His voice echoed through the chambers as well as the halls as he yelled. He looked down at the frightened young lady as she shook in fear. Watching her tiny body quiver and shake brought amusement to him. 

She moved her head up quickly after hear his voice change volume. She shook even more now that she knew she had angered him. Ramsay laid out his hand flat onto his leg with his palm facing upward. 

“Give me your arm” He spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Sara didn’t move at all. She just sat there, staring at him. She found herself so terrified that it left her unable to speak or move. 

“Sara. Would you like to be the next wench I send into the woods?” Even though he spoke in a calm, soothing voice, it still sounded sinister. Sara tried to speak, to beg for mercy but she stopped herself before the words slipped from her mouth. She slowly lifted her arm and gently let it rest upon Lord Ramsay’s hand. As soon as her arm touch his hand, he gripped it tightly. His fingers had already left marks on her arm as he dug his fingernails into her skin. 

“You fucking bitch; When I tell you to do something, you obey, immediately!” He screamed.  
Ramsay picked his freshly sharpened flaying knife and stuck the tip into the girl’s forearm. He slid the blade into her arm slowly, ignoring her screams and pleas for help. With a wicked grin plastered on his face, he finishes removing a hunk of her flesh while laughing. Ramsay rips the chunk of loose skin from her body and throws it onto the floor next to her as she falls to the ground in tears.

“Fry that up and give it to Reek. It’s been so long since he’s ate. Old fucker can’t even catch a mouse anymore!” He said while chuckling. Sara ran down the stairs to follow Ramsay’s orders, terrified what might have happened if she didn’t comply a second time. 

Ramsay grabbed a cloth off the stand and wiped the young girl’s blood from the blade. After he finished, he walked over to his window and moved the heavy curtains out of his view. Ramsay looked out the window and saw the sun begin to shine over the trees of the Dreadfort. He grabbed his bow and arrow and walked out to the stables.


End file.
